


crack my (heart)strings

by betthoven



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betthoven/pseuds/betthoven
Summary: The crack fic parody of a_kiwi's amazing AU.That's it.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20





	1. D&D

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_kiwi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_kiwi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [pluck my (heart)strings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25272625) by [a_kiwi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_kiwi/pseuds/a_kiwi). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy

Ferdinand waits, his anxiety spiking higher than he thought it would, for Edelgard to respond. She sits at the head of the small table, barely visible behind the folder she’s using to shield her notes from them. He catches Hubert’s eye from across the table and mentally winces when he frowns.

“You’re sure you want to open the door?” Edelgard’s voice hides all emotion that could potentially give away how disastrous (or not) this action could be.

“Can I do a Perception Check?” Ferdinand asks, finally realizing what a bad idea putting most of his points to charisma was.

At Edelgard’s nod, he grabs the d20 from the table and hopes this roll will be good enough to cover the lack of a perception proficiency. The door’s secrets must be unlocked. He rolls. Three sets of eyes watch the die, none of them daring to breathe as it stops.

Shaky hands grip the character sheet of Ferdinand the Paladin. “I rolled a 15 minus 2 for Perception makes it 13.” Ferdinand looks back to Edelgard, who still revels in how apprehensive the other two are with her as DM.

“You see nothing wrong with the door. Do you still wish to open it?” 

“Yes.”

Edelgard looks far too smug at Ferdinand’s answer. He feels lightheaded. The past four hours would all be for nothing if they get killed right there because he wanted to open a door. 

“Congratulations!” Edelgard breaks through the start of Ferdinand’s breakdown with a cheer. “You’re in the final room!”

Across the table, Hubert - who had gone through all five stages of grief in the few seconds it took for the final stage’s reveal - leans back in his chair and puts a hand to his face. “You were almost a dead man.” He points at Ferdinand

Ferdinand raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Well, I got us into the last part, of which we’ve been searching for for half an hour. You were the one adamantly saying not to open the door!”

“You know how tricky Edelgard is as Dungeon Master. We all could’ve died for all you know!” Hubert scoffs, looking down at his own character sheet to keep the argument from going any further than it had to. Most of the campaign was spent with Hubert and Ferdinand arguing over what to do while Edelgard, the keeper of secrets, watched amusedly.

“Okay, Hubert, it’s your turn.” Edelgard rummages through her notes and finds what she’s looking for. “The room is yours to explore, Hereward the Wise.”

Hubert purposely thanks Edelgard with a polite “thank you” before shooting a deadly glare at Ferdinand. “I would like to inspect the room before making any actions.”

“Sounds good. Roll for Investigation.”

The d20 makes its way to Hubert’s hands and is rolled across the table. Ferdinand’s futile attempt to hide his disdain at the 19 showing is overlooked by Hubert in favor of mocking him. “Since I actually have points in Intelligence, that makes my roll a 25.”

Ferdinand holds back the urge to leap over the table and strangle Hubert. 

“Listen closely,” Edelgard clears her throat for her DM voice. “You see that the room you’re in has no exit. The walls are all rock, giving it the appearance of a cave. There is a chest in the corner with two locks on it and a magical seal.”

Hubert narrows his eyes. “Is there anything on the floor?”

“No.”

“Is there anything on the ceiling?”

“No.”

“Is there anything on the walls?”

“No.”

“Is there anything in the walls?”

“Your check is limited to the contents of the room only.” She grins mischievously at Hubert’s groan. “Would you like to take any actions?”

“Not right now,” he gives Ferdinand another glare. “I’ll see what everyone else does first.”

Almost immediately after he says that, three things happen in rapid succession. First, Edelgard remarks how it’s her turn now; second, Ferdinand quickly raises his hand as if he’s done it several times already; and, lastly, Hubert hisses “not again” at Ferdinand.

“‘Not again’?” Ferdinand mimics, his tone demanding an answer.

“This is the fifth time that when it’s Edelgard’s turn, you have to make a point of telling everyone how unfair it is for the DM to have a character.” Hubert leans forward on the table as if to try and intimidate Ferdinand into shutting up.

Ferdinand matches his pose. “I just think that Edelgard, who knows everything about this entire campaign, shouldn’t have a character! It gives her an advantage!”

“She’s on our team! You don’t complain when Dorothea has a character as DM!”

“Dorothea makes up her campaigns on the fly! Literally no one knows what’s going to happen until it does!”

Edelgard silences both of them with a simple wave of her hand. “I will address how biased my character may be compared to the other DMs we’ve had. As evidenced by Ferdinand, Dorothea’s campaigns are very sporadic in nature, and as we all know, Claude prefers to watch everyone squirm like some unforgiving God during his campaigns.

Both Hubert and Ferdinand nod at the last part, one of the rare subjects they’ll agree on.

“One must also consider the size of our group today; since this meeting was decided very last minute, it’s understandable that most other members couldn’t make it, leaving it with just the three of us. I figured it would be rather strange with only two actual players, so I, too, created a character at the start of this meeting.

“Finally, Ella the Rogue may be chaotic neutral, but as I established at the very beginning of this session, she is a dumbass.”

The room goes silent. Edelgard starts counting the seconds it takes for one of them to respond. She gets to 37 before Ferdinand coughs. “That’s… a satisfactory answer.”

“Wonderful. Ella’s going to smash one of the locks on the chest.” Edelgard takes the d20 and rolls a perfect 20. Ferdinand gwacks. “A nat 20, nice. Ella takes her axe, and in one fell swoop, the first lock comes crashing down.”

Ferdinand, in an effort to prove himself, grabs the d20. “I’m getting the other lock.” He rolls a 13. “I have plus 4 for strength so that’s a 17!”

“Ferdinand grips his lance and strikes it once, then twice! And the lock is completely destroyed!”

With all the hype, there’s only one member of the trio worried about what could be contained within the chest. “Are you sure the chest should be opened?”

“Just break the seal, Hubert!” Ferdinand yells.

The legendary die is tossed to Hubert, who then rolls it. A 17 plus a magic stat proficiency is more than enough to break the seal on the chest. “Are you happy?”

“Absolutely delighted.” Edelgard clasps her hands together and drops them in a single, fluid motion. “Now, who wants to open it?”

“Isn’t it your turn next?”

“You said it yourself that Ella is a dumbass.” Ferdinand points out.

Hubert nods. “It would be very much in character for her to do that.”

“Unless, of course, you want to do a perception check first.”

“Both of you: shut up. I am opening the chest.” Edelgard rolls a 8. “The chest is opened, but Ella doesn’t use much care in opening it and accidentally sets off an unseen charm that turns all the treasure inside into living skeletons that crawl out and try to kill everyone. Ella, being the first one they reach, just barely survives their attack.”

“What.” Hubert says.

“What!” Ferdinand yells.

Edelgard faces Ferdinand, face serious. “It’s your turn. What will you do?”

“We’re in combat, right? Don’t we have to roll Initiative?” Ferdinand panics.

“There’s three of us here: I’m down, you’re next, and the only other person is a cleric, no offense.”

Hubert rolls his eyes. “None taken.”

Ferdinand, in the effort to not have to deal with the combat, tries to change everyone’s focus. “Speaking of, why did you decide to be a cleric this time? You’re usually a wizard.”

“And Edelgard is usually the paladin.” Hubert raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Ferdinand meets the challenge with his own. “We had a good trio of classes and I simply wanted to change the order of things up a bit.”

“Oh, of course!” Sarcasm seeps through every one of Hubert’s words. “I know the truth: you wanted to be a ‘better’ paladin than Edelgard!”

Ferdinand slams his hands on the table. “I wanted to try something other than bard for a change!”

“Ferdinand!” Edelgard snaps. He shrinks back in his seat under her stern gaze. “You’ve taken too long on your turn, so I am making the executive decision to render Ferdinand the Paladin in the same state as dear Ella.”

“No!”

“Hubert, it’s your turn.”

Hubert stares intently at the folder blocking all of Edelgard’s notes from them, eyes calculating. “Is there any chance for escape?”

“No.”

“Can I fight?”

Edelgard laughs a little at that. “With the spells you have? No.”

Hubert slightly shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders at the impossible situation. “What can I do.”

“Honestly?” Edelgard leans back a little bit and starts pushing her notes into a neat stack. “I would suggest healing one of us so we can fight and help with an escape.”

“Heal me.” Ferdinand blurts.

“And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“I have better combat?”

Hubert gives Ferdinand one of the most disbelieving looks he’s ever seen, and he’s seen almost too many of Hubert’s expressions. “You despise combat.”

“That’s only because I keep rolling 3’s and almost impaling myself!” Ferdinand quickly calms himself. “Besides, do you trust the rogue?”

“You have a point.” Hubert mutters.

“Well?” Edelgard prods, taking the folder down for everyone to see the empty space on the table where her campaign notes were once placed.

“I’m doing a mass healing spell. For all two of you.” He grabs the d20 and gives it an aggressive roll. They all watch as it lands in front of Edelgard, a nat 1.

“Okay,” she nods. “Your mass healing spell backfired horribly and everyone is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: a grocery store


	2. Grocery Store

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is partly inspired by my time working at a grocery store

Hubert walks into the grocery store exactly five minutes after school let out and fifteen minutes before his shift officially begins. He silently thanks God himself, his boss, Alois, for only scheduling him 4 hours. Tuesdays are notoriously slow and Hubert would probably end up checking dates on all the candy again. He hopes none of the remaining boxes expired last year like one he went through Saturday night.

Two minutes until his shift starts, Hubert grabs a bottle of water from the break room and takes a few calming breaths to distract himself from the timeless, soul-sucking nature of the building. He clocks in.

Almost (but not quite) two hours later, Lorenz enters the store. He makes his way directly to Hubert, who raises an eyebrow but doesn’t rebuke the intrusion.

“Hi, how are you? Guess who gets to close today?” Lorenz’s introduction is quick, too quick. Hubert decides to question that.

“As I hope you know: I can read,” Hubert starts. “The schedule says you’re closing today. Do not ask me to switch shifts with you.”

Lorenz drops his friendly act. “Hubert, my English teacher had the good mind to assign a 1500-word essay today. Due tomorrow. I doubt I can get it done since this horrid place decides to close at 1 AM.”

“That’s still a no from me.”

Thankfully, Leonie is there to kick some sense into Lorenz, and kick she does, right into his shin. “Hey, you should clock in before it yells at you for being late.”

“You’re very kind to remind me of that.” Lorenz grits his teeth and gives them an expression they know all too well. No one wants to be here.

Ten minutes into Lorenz’s shift, Leonie spots a sight they hoped to never see again.

“Two Naruto runners have just come in through the door,” She alerts them. “The third member of the Milk Trio has the cart.”

There’s a loud groan and then the sound of something hard hitting a table. Hubert, Leonie, and Lorenz look over to Felix, who has dropped his head onto his register.

“Twenty minutes left.” He puts a hand to his forehead and looks down at the ground like he wants to collapse and never get back up. “I have twenty minutes left. They just couldn’t wait another fifteen before getting their stupid milk.”

“I mean, I kinda feel bad for him, but then again I don’t.” Leonie distracts the other two from Felix’s distress. “I’m gonna go see where they are.” She walks to the front of Hubert’s register then practically sprints back.

Hubert has no time to ask what’s going on before the first jug of milk is slammed onto his belt. He quickly starts it so more can be loaded on. A shiver of fear runs down his spine at the sight of so much milk.

Sylvain runs up to him, a feral glint in his eye. “In this world, it’s either milk or be milked.”

“It’s really not.” Felix mutters from where he is.

With almost superhuman hearing, Sylvain whips around to meet Felix’s glare. “I have a present for you.”

“No,” Felix responds.

“I think you’ll like it.”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s not even big!” Sylvain sets a small coffee cup by Felix. “See?”

“I’m not going to drink that.”

“Just one little sip?”

Felix looks at his watch, sighs, shakes his head, and takes a sip from the cup. “It’s… acceptable.”

Sylvain pumps his fist into the air with an elated “yes!” and regroups at Hubert’s register.

With all the milk jugs loaded on the belt, Raphael rushes the cart to the end so Leonie can start putting them all in the cart. Lorenz watches the fiasco, oblivious to the customer in his line.

The song playing on the speaker system changes. Caspar gasps loudly. “This is it!” He grins at Leonie. “Do you know who this song reminds me of?”

“We know exactly who this song reminds you of.” All of the store workers yell at him. 

“Come on, guys.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Would you believe your eyes if 10 million fireflies lit up your room as you fell asleep?”

Felix checks his watch again, mutters “it’s finally over”, and packs up his register. He shakes his head (fondly?) as Sylvain says goodbye. Then he leaves.

Hubert scans the final jug of milk. “Why do you keep spending all of your money on milk?”

Raphael comes up to pay this time. “It’s either milk or milk and we’re not settling for milk.” Sylvain and Caspar nod, as if that makes complete sense.

As the trio rushes out to who knows where, the three remaining workers breathe a collective sigh of relief. “At least it wasn’t as bad as last time.” Leonie remarks, eyes wide as she remembers just what horrors took place.

Hubert groans. “I doubt I’ll ever forget how loud that lady screamed about them taking all the milk.”

“At least it’s a Tuesday; not many people here on Tuesdays.”

Lorenz takes a seat on his register’s counter, a feat that’s theoretically not allowed. “If anyone comes in here asking about milk, I’m out.”

“Me too.” Leonie agrees.

“I’m out in an hour and a half, so you should probably find some more people if you’re both leaving.” Hubert tells them, greeting the customer in his line right after.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Hubert has seen only a few more customers, but there’s been quite the variety. Between a man who bought nothing but 16 steaks and a woman who yelled at him over chicken, he’s ready to be done.

Leonie finishes bagging the groceries for Lorenz’s customer, who departs without a second glance. She happens to get a look at the person coming into the store, and sends an intense look to Lorenz. Somehow knowing what it means, Lorenz quickly announces that he’s taking 15.

“No!” Hubert yells after him. “I’m leaving in less than 15 minutes! You better get back here!”

“Don’t worry, it’s a Tuesday, there’s practically no one in here.” Leonie says, her body language not reassuring Hubert in the slightest. He’s about to ask her what exactly is going on when someone enters his lane.

Hubert turns to greet his customer and is met with none other than Ferdinand.

Ferdinand, too, looks torn between maintaining a professional setting and messing with the other. Eventually, he resigns himself to a professional, unbiased, and short query.

“Where’s the milk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: some band kids


End file.
